The Miracle of Morgan's Creek Page #4

Thank you, Doctor.

- Well?

- Well, what?

- How are we doing?

- Great.

Then we're really in a mess.

Not you, just me.

So what? You don't have to cry about it.

You're not the first dumb cluck

who couldn't find her husband.

What with the war and all,

there'll probably be millions of them.

They say they have

much the prettiest babies, too.

He'll come back. He has to come back.

What're you laughing about?

I was just wondering whether

I was going to be an aunt or an uncle.

Stop it, will you?

I'm only trying to make you smile, Trudy.

- Come on, we'll see Mr. Johnson, the lawyer.

- What for?

To find out if you're really married.

You're kind of hard to convince, aren't you?

- Certainly she's married.

- Even with a phony name, Mr. Johnson?

What's the name got to do with it?

Marriage is a matter of fact, not names.

The marriage was celebrated, I presume?

- They usually are.

- I think so.

Since you're here on behalf of a friend

who does not wish to appear...

all I've gotta say is,

she ought to be ashamed of herself.

She's a very nice girl.

It just happened, that's all.

I mean because of her carelessness!

The responsibility for recording a marriage

has always been up to the woman.

If it wasn't for her,

marriage would have disappeared long since.

No man is going to jeopardize his present

or poison his future...

with little brats hollering around the house

unless he's forced to.

It's up to the woman

to knock him down, hog-tie him...

and drag him in front of two witnesses

immediately, if not sooner.

Any time after that is too late.

Your friend doesn't remember

the bridegroom's name?

No, sir.

She used an assumed name. Perfect.

That's really airtight.

- Couldn't you do anything?

- What, for instance?

- Divorce...

- Or sue him for alimony?

Sue who? Annul who?

I practice the law. I'm not only willing, but

anxious to sue anyone, anytime for anything.

They've got to be real people with names,

corpuses, and meat on their bones.

I can't work with spooks.

Your friend doesn't need a lawyer,

she needs a medium.

- Thank you, Mr. Johnson.

- That will be $5.

Which you'll kindly hang onto

and buy flowers with on the happy day...

for your friend, of course.

You don't have to tell anybody,

do you, about our friend?

How could I when I don't even know

who she is?

Thank you, Mr. Johnson.

I've gotta get back to the store now, Emmy.

Could you get me a sandwich

and bring it in to me, a Swiss on rye?

Sure. But the way I look at it, it was

a man got our friend in the soup.

- Let a man get her out of it.

- But how?

She could always get married, couldn't she?

How can I get married

when I'm already married?

Don't talk about yourself,

we're talking about our friend.

It's all very well to say she's married,

but when the time comes to prove...

Are you trying to say our friend is a liar?

- Don't talk so loud.

- You better not.

I'm only 14.

My ideas probably aren't any good, anyway.

I was only trying to be helpful.

Our friend could just marry somebody

and then one day...

Sure. One day she could say:

"By the way,

there's something I forgot to mention."

Anyway, I'm already married.

Mr. Johnson said so.

What does he know? He takes in roomers.

Nobody's going to believe it.

Nobody believes good if they've got

a chance to believe something bad.

But that would be bigamy.

How can it be bigamy

if they didn't get your right name?

You never got married.

That was somebody else.

I could ask the other girls

who were on the party.

If they knew, we would have heard about it,

you can bet your life.

You must have slipped away somewhere

and done it quietly like movie stars.

- I wonder what Papa's going to say.

- He probably won't say much.

He'll just haul off and shoot Norval

so full of holes, he'll look like Swiss cheese.

That was a Swiss on rye you wanted,

wasn't it?

- Norval? Where does he fit in?

- He took you out, didn't he?

He brought you home, didn't he?

At 8:
00 in the morning, didn't he?

He fits like the skin on a wienie.

Poor Norval. We'd better warn him.

- We'd better marry him.

- Marry him?

How can you say such things, Emmy?

What's the matter with you?

He was made for it.

Like the ox was made to eat

and the grape was made to drink.

I'll get you the Swiss on rye.

I'm certainly glad to see you all again.

For a while there, I thought you were

kind of sore at me, Mr. Kockenlocker.

- Papa's bite's worse than his bark.

- You said it.

Wait till you get married

and have half a dozen daughters...

and see how you feel when some mug

brings them home 8:00 in the morning.

- But, Papa, you only have two daughters.

- That's plenty.

They're a mess

no matter how you look at them.

A headache till they get married,

if they get married...

- and after that they get worse.

- Pudding?

Either they leave their husbands...

and come back with four children

and move into your guest room...

or their husband loses his job

and the whole caboodle comes back.

Or else they're so homely

you can't get rid of them at all...

and they hang around the house

like Spanish moss...

and shame you into an early grave.

I guess it's a good thing

I didn't have any designs on you.

The way Papa kept talking about

marriage and all.

If you had any designs, they wouldn't

be on me much anyway, I guess.

I guess they would be, if I had any.

Yes, but you haven't. That's what I mean.

Like the night of the party...

you could have stayed

and gone to the show with me...

- but instead, you didn't.

- I'm sorry I didn't, Norval.

- No fooling?

- No fooling.

I wouldn't have got

your car nicked up or anything.

It was only for the boys.

I know.

You can't expect a girl to see much

in a civilian these days...

even an unwilling civilian.

If they had uniforms for them,

it might be a little different.

- I'm not so crazy about uniforms.

- You're not?

I'd give anything to wear one.

That's because you're a man.

Lots of women wear them, too,

like those WACos.

Woman's place is in the home.

That sounds kind of old-fashioned

and domestic coming from you, Trudy.

Sometimes you just naturally feel

old-fashioned and domestic, Norval.

I guess no girl ever gets away

from it, really.

She thinks she is, and then one day,

something happens...

and she finds out she isn't.

Something like what, Trudy?

Something like falling in love,

maybe, or something.

Why, Trudy!

If I didn't know you so well...

and know that nothing could be further

from your mind...

a fellow would almost swear

you were giving him a hint.

Would that be so terrible?

Terrible! It'd be marvelous!

How much of a hint would you need?

Why, Trudy! I...

Norval, remember your blood pressure.

I wouldn't want anything to happen to you

just before you said...

whatever you're getting ready to say.

Don't worry about me.

It's only the surprise of realizing that

what you've been dreaming about...

I mean, what you've been thinking about

all these...

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